Over the past several weeks we have been asked, “How is Noah doing?” Although our answer is typically a canned response, “fine...he’s really learning the language...has bonded with the family...blah blah blah....”, the fact of the matter is behind those beautiful eyes is a grieving little boy. As his language has developed so has his ability to express the losses he has experienced in his very young life. Last week his grief came to the surface in an emotional yet beautiful evening for the entire family. What began as a simple discipline issue erupted into an all out melt down for Noah. He was unapproachable in his room....crying...screaming. Then his cries and screams turned into moans and wails. Zak, who was standing by me the entire time, looked at me in concern and said, “Mom, that’s the sound I would make when there was nothing more I could do.” It triggered my memory and he was right it was the same sound Zak had made 5 years earlier...Noah was done and all he had left inside him was the moans of someone who had nothing left to give. I went back into his room and this time he let me pick him up and rock him in my arms...he completely melted into me sobbing, “I have no family, I have no family”. I motioned Zak to go get all the kids. Although difficult for them given the emotional state Noah was in, they needed to look Noah in the eye and let him know...he was loved and he had a family. Every one took their turn hugging him through the tears. He calmed down and began talking about his life...his life before us...before WACAP....before the orphanage. Some information we already knew and some we learned for the very first time sitting in a circle on the floor of his bedroom.
Thankful...once again because of this journey with Noah I have to express that I am now seeing this word...thankful...in a whole new light. Last week we realized the extent of love Noah still has for the people he left behind in Ethiopia. Both his parents passed away early in his life from Tuberculosis. His mom’s sister, who was raising her family alone as it was, took Noah in for two years. During that time she gave birth to a baby...a little girl named Galeila. Last week, through his tears Noah talked about Galeila. She was a good baby. He gave her water when she was thirsty. At night his aunt, Galeila, and Noah shared a bed and Galeila would cuddle into Noah and sleep. Noah loved Galeila. One day his aunt couldn’t feed everyone in the family...there was not enough food. Through tears Noah told us of the day his aunt had him say goodbye to Galeila and she walked the baby to the orphanage to relinquish her for adoption. Galeila was, we are guessing, about 8 months old. When she got back to their shack he and his aunt cried. I am not sure of the span of time before it was Noah’s turn to take the walk to the orphanage with his aunt, but it was long enough that by the time he got there Galeila was gone.
Thankful...a word that this time of year can be overused and misunderstood. My thanks this year extend to a lady surviving in a steel sided shack on the fringes of the poorest city in Ethiopia. My thanks this year extend to this lady who cared for my son when she could not even provide for her own child. I will honor the strength and courage of this brave lady this year and for years to come. She is the image I will see when I close my eyes and pray this Thanksgiving.
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